


And if we…

by rip1009



Series: Requiem for a fool. His Dark Chronicles. [6]
Category: Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: M/M, Nicolas co-wrote It's all coming back to me now, he's an angsty small ball of feels but with a salty attitude, my boy feels, this is how Nicolas exorcised his demons post-Queen of the Damned, this is my headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 11:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14769125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rip1009/pseuds/rip1009
Summary: Nicolas co-wrote with Jim Steinman the song "It's all coming back to me now"A small glimpse at Nicolas post Queen of the Damned event.So many feels.





	And if we…

 

 

Nicolas lingered in the studio following Jim with a careful gaze as the man was explaining the song that wouldn’t leave his feverish mind. The concept, the meaning, the influence. With each word and description of what he wanted to compose, Nicolas felt his heart being stabbed. It was Jim’s song as much as it was beginning to feel like it was his. 

“Alright! Stop running in circles, I get it. You do realize no fucking radio station will pick up a power ballad over 7 minutes in length but fuck it, Jim, let’s do this. And this time, you won’t rush to that Tyler broad and beg her to take your song”

Steinman stroke the piano keys with passion and anger, letting the damned song wash over his own being. A tribute to Heathcliff and Cathy, a love so maddening it took life after life until it was nothing left to take. Oh, how he understood this so well. He joined his friend, adding more on the operatic side of the song. Powerful, tragic, it felt like an exorcism he wanted to perform ever since that damned night he had turned on the TV and Lestat’s face greeted him. He rushed to the nearest library and found the book. Anger and sadness had bloomed inside him, he felt he had been discarded, a secondary character which in turn became the mold for the perfect companion Lestat sought. A ghost to haunt the maker and the progeny. The perfect Cathy to his maker’s Heathcliff. He didn’t realize his hands were trembling on the guitar as he accompanied the piano, his mind being elsewhere, his mind haunting the moors where love was eternal and pain had been forgotten. 

“What?” Nicolas was perplexed on what Jim was suggesting. “It’s a demo, Nick. I need a voice and you’re a baritone”, Jim insisted. “I don’t sing” Nicolas challenged the mortal. “The fuck you don’t”, the smaller man insisted.

Nicolas found himself in front of the microphone, his undead heart in his throat. This song was his undoing and his salvation.  He began singing, adding his personal brand of pain to the already haunting lyrics.

 

> _There were those empty threats and hollow lies_
> 
> _And whenever you tried to hurt me_
> 
> _I just hurt you even worse and so much deeper_

He steeled himself as he kept singing, lyric after lyric, forcing himself not to break down, blood tears be damned and all. Everything about this song was resurrecting his old slumbering demons. It was their story and he could no longer go and see him. He was no longer his. There was another in his stead. The Catherine Linton to his Catherine Earnshaw. He had wanted to go to that damned concert. He hadn’t. He stayed in Berlin. He read the book that followed. The old rules forgotten, their kind’s history presented from the start up to the uncertain present unfolding before them. 

Nicolas pushed himself through the song, finishing the grandiose piece and leaving a stunned Jim before him, handling the recording. He rarely sang. “Holy fuck, Nick” the man spoke “beat that, Elaine. She’ll be stunned. She’ll beg you to join on the vocals”. Nicolas cleared his throat, forcing himself to calm down “told you before, I don’t do front and center. This song works better as a duet if you ask me. Give it a go as well for a demo or try again with Meat. It’s right down his alley” Pushing past the mortal, Nicolas reached the bathroom, feeling his knees go weak. He felt to the floor, sobbing, his whole being replaying the song and the lyrics through the events of his life. It hurt. More than hands severed and flesh burnt. It pierced his heart and took the breath from his lugs. Each word from that damned book echoed in his head. Now they had a tune to play along.

He let the emotions wash through him, viciously tearing his soul apart. He would rise above this. Long ago, he planned to seek revenge. The lessons of forgiveness had been the hardest to learn yet he pushed himself to learn and heal, accept and move on. He had forgotten to let himself mourn. Mourn over everything he had felt. For decades, Nicolas forced himself to harden his heart. Not to feel was for the best. It kept him focused. Some younger vampires wanted to learn the secrets of the ancients, like how to shield their mind or control the minds of mortals. Nicolas wanted to learn how not feel the pain that accompanied him daily. How to shut his heart. Forgive but not feel. 

He broke on the marble floor, blood tears flowing from his eyes, angry tears as he sobbed. He let the emotions run their course, until there were no more tears to be shed. He lifted himself and took a look at himself in the mirror before turning on the water tap and splashing some cold water, cleaning his blood stained face.

He looked at himself in the mirror, composing himself, adding layer upon layer of confidence and steel before rejoining Jim. He uttered silently, like a prayer: “… _and if we_ …” 


End file.
